In the last month, two Portland-area coaches -- Howard Avery and Askia Brown -- have been convicted of sexually abusing teen-age girls left in their care.

Beyond the guilty verdicts, the two trials provided a dramatic contrast. And they've left me, and several of the exhausted jurors and observers in the Brown case, with lingering questions about courtroom equity and parenting decisions.

Avery's day in court lasted five hours, Brown's four weeks.

Avery's court-appointed attorney in Clackamas County, Charles Moore, presented a limited defense, choosing not to call a single witness.

In the preliminary list filed by Brown's attorney, Richard Cohen, on the other hand, there were 99 witnesses. Although Cohen eventually settled for half that number, the case dragged on for so long that Josh Lamborn, the Multnomah County prosecutor, felt compelled to reintroduce the jury to Brown's three victims in a closing power point presentation.

Convicted on five counts of felony sex abuse for forcing himself on a 17-year-old Oregon City athlete, Avery was sentenced to 15 years in prison. As The Oregonian's Rachel Bachman reported in 2003, Avery had a long history of sexual contact with girls in his club basketball program, including one yearlong sexual relationship that ended in an abortion.

While Avery didn't have a friend in the world -- or, at least, in the courtroom -- when justice was served, Brown -- who comes up for sentencing in November on two Class C felonies and four misdemeanor charges -- had several high-profile supporters.

They included Andrew Miller, the CEO of Stimson Lumber, whose four children were coached by Brown; Jody Stahancyk, one of the more entertaining divorce lawyers in town; and Cohen, a skilled defense attorney.

"The primary reason for my commitment to this case is that I didn't like the size of the steamroller aimed at the man," Cohen said. "I don't think it's an under-estimation to say there were 30 government employees who were engaged in some work on this case.

"How was Mr. Brown to have the opportunity to stand up to that unless someone with experience and energy jumped into the fray?"

A good chunk of Cohen's energy was directed at Ray Thomas' role in Brown's prosecution. Immediately after his daughter reported in August that Brown had touched her inappropriately, Thomas contacted Miller and other parents whose daughters trained with Brown, warning them that his daughter might not be the only victim.

Thomas, a Portland attorney, subsequently teamed with the Multnomah County DA's office to lobby the Legislature on harsher penalties for coaches who sexually abuse their athletes.

Miller and Stahanczk, however, responded negatively to Thomas' e-mails about Brown.

Miller complained about Thomas' "drive" to convince him of Brown's guilt. "You have done a good job of accusing, trying and convicting him in public," Miller wrote. "As an officer of the court you should be ashamed of your behavior."

Stahancyk told Thomas he should make no attempt to contact her "summer ward," who had trained with Brown. "The fact that your daughter may have issues is not a reason to suggest that anyone else shares her views of Mr. Brown," Stahancyk wrote.

Cohen later argued in court that Thomas' media campaign and ties with the DA's office impacted Brown's ability to receive a fair hearing.

At the end of that monthlong trial, the jury deliberated for two days before convicting Brown on six of the eight charges against him, finding him not guilty of sexually abusing one of the three victims. "Everyone thought she was telling the truth," said juror Barbara Berg, "but there just wasn't the evidence there."

All five members of the jury I spoke with said Brown -- who testified for three days -- was doomed when Lamborn caught him lying about his education background. After Brown testified he was 10 units short of graduating from Portland State, Lamborn produced college transcripts from PSU and Grambling State that indicated Brown had earned only 52 of the 184 hours required for a degree.

"That's more than 120 hours short, right?" Lamborn asked.

"If you do the math, right," Brown said.

Doggone if the jury didn't do the math.

"We talked about it in the jury room," Dave Johnson said. "You have to discount everything he says because he's a liar."

"After the prosecutor caught him lying, his testimony could not be trusted," juror Donna Taylor added. "He was his own worst enemy when he got up on the witness stand."

But the jurors were equally adamant that Thomas' actions as a father were easier to understand than those of Miller, who helped bail Brown out of jail, testified on his behalf and paid a significant amount of his legal fees.

They were annoyed that Miller called Thomas "a plaintiff's lawyer who has a special gift for victimization" and twice suggested that Thomas was party to a "lynching."

They were appalled when Miller defended text messages from Brown to his daughters in which the coach called one athlete "a dirty whore" ("I think it's frank and direct and honest," Miller testified), or chortled, "So, –– actually hooked up with someone. That's exciting. I love to hear these things."

And the jurors, along with Lamborn, were mystified that Miller continued to allow his two oldest daughters to train with Brown after three other athletes accused Brown of molesting them.

"It didn't bother me that he paid to get Askia out of jail," Johnson said. "It didn't bother me he paid for Askia's defense. I knew Mr. Miller thought he saved his daughter's life. But I can't understand how a dad would let his daughter go work with this guy when these accusations were still out there."

"I knew when I participated in Askia's defense I would be criticized," Miller said. "The resources of the state overwhelm the resources of most defendants. I don't think it's a fair fight.

"Askia, whatever people may think of him, was an important person in my children's lives. We talked about the situation. They wanted to make sure he got a fair shake."

Miller said his primary concern was his daughters' welfare; his secondary concern was that Thomas should stand down and allow the legal system to work. He's not sure that it does.

"What surprised me about the system is the single-mindedness with which investigators work to prove the crime rather than ascertain the truth," Miller said. "If you are a male in our society and even accused of sexual impropriety, I think your goose is largely cooked before you open your mouth."

Stahancyk, who represented Miller in a lengthy divorce case, expressed similar concerns. "Andrew Miller only provided funds so that the man had a square break," she said. "He didn't go out and start a smear campaign.

"In a divorce or a custody dispute, it's a beauty contest. I know. I'm an expert at it. But it's the downfall of the criminal justice system when people start making this a popularity contest. Justice isn't blind, and it ought to be."

Given the tremendous contrast in resources devoted to the trials, and convictions, of Howard Avery and Askia Brown, justice also plays favorites, and exerts a fearsome toll on those who trust that truth will out.

"The system is a lot different that I thought it would be," Berg said. "After watching all of this, if I had a daughter I'm not sure I would tell her to go through it. The trial was very traumatizing to these children. Several of us (jurors) were in tears several times. Teenagers are not the best witnesses. And we allow them to be almost abused in court." Steve Duin: 503-221-8597; 1320 S.W. Broadway, Portland, OR 97201